


The Twink in Black Tights

by placereaduivame



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yoga, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is a human, M/M, Slow Burn, hank is so lovestruck, no beta we die like men, soft sweet yoga boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-20 15:09:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 17,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placereaduivame/pseuds/placereaduivame
Summary: Hank is just a police lieutenant checking out the new coffee shop that opened down the street, and then he meets Connor, an employee and yoga instructor. His life takes a turn, and he is not sure if it is for the best or for the worst.Rated Mature for adult language, suggestive themes, and eventual sexual content.





	1. Prologue

Hank had found out about the yoga class at a cafe. He didn't frequent cafes. Matter-of-factly, he had only gone because it was a new place just around the corner. It was convenient enough if the coffee was good, being right by his house. So he decided to go,  **just**  to see if he could get coffee there, rather than drink the coffee at the Detroit Police Department. That shit was never very good at all.

He found that not only was the coffee god-tier, but their staff was also.

Well... One of them in particular. His name was Connor. To put it simply, Hank had never been much of a brown-eyes enthusiast until he met the brunette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other chapters will be a lot longer, this is just a prologue.


	2. Jerrys' Cafe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank discovers why the cafe is called "Jerrys' Cafe" and also talks to Connor about dogs.

Every day, Hank would go for a coffee at Jerrys' Cafe and every day, Connor would serve him his coffee and try to conversate with him as much as possible. The brunette male had always been very sweet, too. Hank was already warming up to him, despite himself. He usually did not trust easily, but Connor was so gentle. How could he  _not_ speak to him? Eventually, Connor knew his full name and where he lived. Oops?

One day, about a week after he started going, he found out why it was called Jerry's Cafe, meeting the red-headed male at one point while speaking with Connor.

Hank never paid the other waiters and waitresses any mind, since he was constantly so focused on Connor. But one day, he noticed something.

He saw two of... the same person? He was extremely confused and tapped Connor's shoulder, who was talking about his passion for dogs. Connor stopped talking and looked at him with a mirroring confused expression. Hank pointed at the two red-headed males, who looked completely identical. Connor laughed quietly. Hank wished to never forget that sound.

"That's Jerry," Connor informed him with a small smile. As if that helped.

"Which one?" Hank asked, looking between the two.

"Both." Connor simply stated. Hank looked from him to Jerry and Jerry.

"They're... twins?" He asked. "Both named Jerry?"

"Triplets, actually," Connor said cheerily, pointing to the third red-head Hank hadn't noticed, that was at a register behind the counter. "Jerry is filling in for Simon. He got the flu." Connor continued, sounding a bit sad about whoever Simon was getting the flu. Hank felt a twinge of something deep within him.  _Jealousy?_  wondered a voice in the back of his mind that he shut up very quickly.

"Oh," Hank said. He was more thinking about Connor's relationships with his co-workers worriedly. He tried to stop those thoughts, looking back at Connor.

"Do you have a dog?" Connor asked eagerly, breaking the awkward silence (silent, apart from Hank's awkward sips of his coffee) that had hung heavy in the air for a minute or so. Hank was happy about the subject change.

"Yeah, actually. A saint bernard." Hank pulled out his phone and opened his camera roll, scrolling through to find a picture of the big lump.

He found a particular picture that he felt captured the dog's personality. He tapped on it and showed his phone to Connor.

"Oh my god..." Connor whispered.

"What? He ain' nothing special, just a big lump of fluff." Hank laughed. The picture was a picture of Sumo sleeping by the fireplace. Despite Hank's negative talk of the dog, he really loved the big bastard.

"B-big... and fluffy..." Connor was whispering, his eyes practically sparkling as he gazed at the dog in awe.

"Yep, that's about all he is. His name is Sumo." Hank said, smiling at Connor's behavior. He took another sip of his coffee.

"Does he cuddle?" Connor asked, still staring at the dog lovingly.

"Pfft. Oh,  _yeah_. It's all he does. He thinks he's a puppy." Hank answered. Connor fucking swooned, smiling very wide. He looked like he was about to start crying.

"Oh..." That was all Connor said at first, staring at the dog for a whole minute. "Yeah. I'm in love with your dog." He said, closing his eyes and holding his finger up matter-of-factly. Hank chuckled. Somewhere internally, he wished Connor was in love with him. He shoved that thought so far down and tried to never think it again. "I would really love to meet him sometime." Connor finished, looking back up at Hank with that stupid smile that Hank loved. Hank's mind immediately jumped to  _Connor wants to come to my house?_  He had to ignore that thought as well.

"Do  _you_  have a dog?" He asked Connor.

"Oh, no. I wish I did, but I'm probably too busy to take them on walks. Plus, I kind of wan-" Connor cut himself off, blushing. Hank didn't question it but in his mind, he could not stop wondering what the hell Connor wanted.

"Oh. Well, that's too bad." Hank lamented, mainly hoping to break the awkward silence that had come back with a vengeance. He took a final swig of his coffee, finishing it and putting the mug down.

 It was at this time that Hank also noticed he was 8 minutes late.

"Oh, shit. I'm like 10 minutes late, I gotta go. I'll see ya, Con." Hank grabbed his phone and waved at the android, who waved goodbye back with a smile. "Bye, Hank!" He called after him.

Hank was beginning to become a morning person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jealous hank is my oxygen bye


	3. 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank finds out more things about Connor, Connor finds out more things about Hank. Just a usual day, other than an unpleasant memory that Hank wishes he could bury with his son.

As the days passed, Hank found himself getting more and more upset when Connor was flirted with by the patrons. He never said anything, just gave them a fucking death glare and a half. About another week had passed since their conversation about dogs, and age came into the conversation. Hank immediately wanted to swerve the fuck away from that topic, but Connor still told Hank his age anyway.

"Oh, and I'm 32." Connor had said, smiling sheepishly. Hank almost choked on his coffee.

"32?!" He sputtered. He thought Connor was a  _lot_  younger, like in his mid-20s or something. Not fucking 32.

"Correct" Connor chimed, still smiling with a slight blush on his face. Hank was fucking 53 years old. At least that made him feel slightly better about...

"I'm, uh, 53." He admitted. He felt like he looked older. Years of a bad diet and alcoholism wore him down from what he used to be. For some fucking reason, Hank had no idea why, but Connor flushed a deeper shade of red when Hank said this. He broke the silence. "Yeah. I look older, don't I?"

"N-no, that's not it..." Connor squeaked, face gradually fading back to its natural color. Hank didn't ask what it was.

"I mean, that's just fuckin' alcohol pretty much. I didn't look too bad 10, 20 years ago." Hank admitted. For a second, he worried that Connor would judge him for his alcoholism. But Connor's expression softened.

"Hank, you don't look bad  _now_ ," Connor reassured, his hand twitching. He moved his hand up for a second, and then looked away and almost slammed it into the table as though he was controlling an impulse. Hank just sighed. He probably shouldn't voice how much he disliked himself. He didn't want Connor to dislike him too.

"Like a week ago we talked about dogs. If you could have a dog, what breed would you get?" Hank asked, desperate for a subject change.

"Border collie," Connor said it without hesitance, as though he was preparing for this question. Hank smiled. Of course.

"I'll remember that," Hank said, still smiling. Connor looked slightly confused. Hank was determined that one day, he would get Connor a small border collie. Then he recalled what the male had said about why he didn't already have a dog. Hank thought about it for a bit. "Any reason?" He thought to ask so the awkward silence didn't strike.

"My father used to have one. Her name was Belle, she was beautiful. Not only that, but she was always there for me. She died like 10 years back, but I still miss her." Connor ended his sentence sounding quite sad, despite starting it sounding cheerful as usual. Hank felt bad for asking now.

"Fuck, that's rough." Hank tried to sympathize.

He had a dead son. It felt like a fresh wound when he remembered desperately slamming the brakes on the icy road. Screaming that Cole couldn't be dead, he couldn't be, he couldn't be. Falling into a dark state of grief and his wife leaving him after he took his pain out on her, yelling and crying almost every day and trying to numb himself with alcohol.

But there was no normal way to add that into the conversation.

So he stayed quiet until he finished his coffee. "Sorry for bringing that up. I need to get to work. Bye, Connor." He smiled and messed up the male's carefully combed hair. He went to work feeling less happy, but still happy about seeing Connor none-the-less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F to pay respects to Hank :")


	4. Lieutenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor learns that Hank is the police lieutenant, Hank learns that Connor teaches a yoga class. Connor wants Hank in the class, and Hank gives into his puppy eyes.

****

About another week of Hank unknowingly falling in love with Connor later, the topic of jobs came up.

"Oh, uh, it's nothing special but I'm a homicide detective at the DPD." Hank had said to Connor, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh! Would you prefer me to call you by your rank,  _Lieutenant_?" Connor had asked in return. Hank almost choked on his coffee once again. There was nothing suggestive about the question at all, but the way 'Lieutenant' rolled off of Connor's tongue sounded awfully sultry. Hank had to shove away quite a few dangerous thoughts before speaking.

"A-Absolutely  _not._ " Hank had stammered, his face burning. Connor had fucking  _giggled_. A heavenly sound, really. Then he spoke.

"Well, apart from me working here, I'm also an instructor for a small yoga class." He had said, and then his features brightened. Oh,  **no.**  "You should join the class!" He chimed, a hopeful glint in his beautiful, chocolate-colored eyes. "I could even give you private lessons." He added as an afterthought, winking on the last couple of words in his sentence. Yeah, Hank was a fucking goner.

When Connor noticed Hank's obvious hesitance, he spoke again. "If I let you join and give you lessons for free,  _then_  will you join?" He pleaded, giving Hank the sweetest fucking puppy eyes he'd ever seen. Well, FUCK, how was he supposed to say no to that?!

"Alright, fine. I'll probably be behind, I'm not uh, in the best shape." At this point, Hank was just desperate to change Connor's mind. Yoga was... not his thing.

"Private lessons," Connor reminded him, grinning. Hank rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright. I just need to know where. And when." He said, taking another swig of his coffee.

"Connor!" Hank heard one of the Jerrys call out from behind the two.

"Dang it!" Connor muttered. Hank watched as the mole-speckled male took out a notepad and a pen. He clicked the pen and quickly scrawled something on the paper. Hank couldn't see what it said, as he couldn't read upside-down. Connor tore out the paper and gave it to Hank, giving an apologetic smile and waving. Hank waved bye in return, watching Connor run to the kitchen (mainly watching below the torso) before looking at the paper.

'313-800-0051 ♡', it read. Holy shit, Hank just got Connor's number without even needing to ask. For how fast it was written, the hand-writing was surprisingly neat. He put the paper in his pocket and finished his coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these are getting shorter oops


	5. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank, after getting home from work, calls Connor. Connor tells Hank when to show up, and Hank falls, if possible, deeper in love with Connor.

After work that day, after a great deal of stalling (he even shaved a bit), Hank called Connor. It rang for a few moments before somebody, presumably (hopefully) Connor picked up.

"Hello?" Hank immediately recognized the sweet voice of Connor.

"Uh, hi." He said. Dumbass! Connor probably didn't recogniz-

"Hank!" The tone of Connor's voice had brightened and Hank could hear the excitement in his voice. He smiled.

"Yep." He simply said, hoping Connor couldn't tell he was smiling. "I'm calling about, uh, our cut off conversation this mornin'." He elaborated, making a gesture with his hand as if Connor could see him.

"Oh, yeah! Ehehe..." Connor had giggled a little again. "Yeah, I'll text you the address right now, as well as my own for the uh..." He trailed off. "Private lessons." He finished. Hank received two addresses. He found it safe to assume the one with the heart next to it was Connor's place, as Connor didn't specify in the text.

"And, uh, when?" Hank asked. He didn't know why, but he felt stupid.

"I just thought of a better idea: private lessons in the actual building. Before and after classes, because the room is always reserved for me..." Connor was rambling, and Hank was listening with a smile. Despite what Connor said, he didn't delete the text message with his own address.

"Okay, dork, but you didn't answer my question.  _When_?" Hank asked again, almost certain the smile he has is audible through his words.

"Oh, oops! I have classes on Wednesdays and Saturdays." He said sweetly. Hank had never been happier about it being a Tuesday ever. "The classes are from 5 to 6:30." Connor added. Hank was nodding as though Connor was in front of him and typing all of this in the notepad app.

"And the, uh, private lessons?" Hank asked, face warm with the blood that had rushed into it.

"You can check my room before classes, I'm usually there from 3 to 7," Connor told him cheerily. Hank added all of this to the note he had, that he had titled "Yoga with dork".

"So, you sure that this is all free?" Hank asked, knowing he could pay if Connor wanted him to. He didn't want Connor to regret offering all this for free.

"Of course, Hank." Connor immediately reassured. His voice was sweet as always, but there was something underlying in his tone that Hank couldn't quite name.

"Okay," Hank said, and he hated the awkward silence that hung in the air afterward. "So, uh, see you tomorrow?" He asked, hating himself for how awkward he sounded.

"Yes." Connor simply said. He sounded as though his mind was elsewhere.

"Good night, Connor," Hank said, but before he could hang up, Connor spoke.

"Good night,  _Lieutenant~_ ," Connor said sweetly. Hank's face burned. Connor had hung up but Hank had barely noticed. He could hardly wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor was obviously thinking about hank plowing into him after hours. i mean, what else-


	6. Meeting His Gaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank talks to Connor on Wednesday morning. He asks Connor how he feels about his job, and says something he begins to regret when Connor asks him the same.

Hank chatted with Connor Wednesday morning as usual, although there was something heavy in the air when he walked into the cafe and greeted Connor, the usual slow, soft music playing.

"Good morning, Connor. The usual, of course." Hank smiled at the way Connor immediately came over to him. Like a personal fucking waiter.

"Alright, Hank." Connor smiled back as Hank passed the male a five. Connor's expression quickly changed. He looked very puzzled.

"Keep the change, dork," Hank assured as Connor looked at him with confusion. Connor blushed and nodded, going to the register and pocketing the change before going to the back to make Hank his coffee.

Hank had been drinking significantly less at home, often not really needing to. He had hidden away the pictures he had of Cole and his ex-wife while he was drunk and did not remember where he hid them. He never looked though, knowing it was for the better that he didn't find them again.

While he waited, Hank looked around the small coffee shop. A Jerry was conversing with a customer at the front who had dirty blond hair and a scarred face. A blond waiter, who Connor had introduced a week back or so as 'Simon', was speaking to another male at the table with tanned skin and seemingly heterochromia; his right eye was green, but his left was blue. Hank saw another Jerry giving coffees to a female with long, braided red hair who was sitting next to a paler female with seemingly silky blond hair in a ponytail. He turned when he heard footsteps and was greeted by the site of Connor holding his coffee with a smile.

"Thanks, Con," Hank said before picking up the coffee and taking a sip. Connor just put his head on his hand as he watched Hank with a small smile before speaking.

"Of course. Thank you for the tip," Connor thanked him, looking away for a moment before looking back at Hank, right into his eyes. Hank's heart throbbed for a moment as he met Connor's gaze. There was something burning there, something so intense that just looking back into those brown eyes made his chest tight. He looked away with a slight heat in his face. 

"You deserve it," He choked out, words suddenly becoming difficult. He slowed his breathing. What the fuck even was that? Did he almost hyperventilate just because they looked each other in the eyes? If that was the case, Hank really was a goner.

Connor smiled wider at this and watched as Hank took another quick swig of his coffee and set the mug down. Hank then spoke, desperate to ignore what just happened.

"Why did you start working here?" He asked. He realized he kind of sounded like a dick, as though he didn't approve of Connor's job, so he added: "I mean, for money? Or do you just enjoy it?"

"Oh. I, uh, I actually really like it here. Just the aura of this place is really nice to me..." Connor trails off, looking around the small shop before looking at Hank again. "And I really like seeing you every morning." He added, a small blush dusting his cheeks. "So I would say I just enjoy it, although it's nice being able to pay for my apartment." He finished.

Hank nodded. "My job is alright. It's not nearly as bad as it used to be with you cheering me up every mornin'." He confessed. There wasn't too much Connor could do with the information that he cheered Hank up because he probably knew that already.

"Why did it used to be bad?" Connor inquired, looking thoughtful. Hank hadn't expected the question. He scrambled his mind for an answer, not being able to come up with a lie fast enough so he just said:

"Well, I've got, uh, baggage." He had sighed, looking down into his coffee. He felt Connor's hand on his jaw and nearly fell to the floor. His hands were extremely soft. Connor lifted Hank's head up and looked him in the eyes, the same intensity. Hank recognized that look but didn't have a name, though he wished for the life of him that he could remember.

"Like what?" Connor asked gently. He then caught himself and looked away, blushing out of what was probably embarrassment. "I mean, you don't have to-"

Hank shook his head, making Connor's hand fall to the table. "Maybe one day I'll grow the balls to tell you." He uttered. He looked back at Connor, hating the look of disappointment and confusion on his face. "Trust me, dork, it's not you. Don't let this ruin your morning." Hank reassured, messing up Connor's hair. He blushed a bit as he felt Connor lean into his touch. He removed his hand and took the last swig of his coffee before setting the mug down and getting ready to leave.

"Hank?" Connor asked just as Hank was about to say goodbye.

"Yeah?" He stopped in his tracks, looking at Connor. Connor's face was contorted with uncertainty.

"...Never mind. Goodbye, Hank, have a nice day and I'll see you later." Connor seemed quite conflicted, but Hank didn't feel there was anything he could do about it. So he just waved goodbye to Connor and set out for his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor it's ok you can kiss him all better right?  
> right??????  
> (right. i don't have enough in me to write too much slow burn or a bitter ending)


	7. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank gets home from work and mentally prepares himself for what is to come at those fuckin' yoga lessons.

Hank swore the day passed by two times slower than they usually do. He arrived at work at around 8 AM. Meeting Connor definitely got him back up to par at work, too. He had been arriving a lot earlier, mainly because he woke up earlier to catch Connor with slight bed-head hair. He ignored a snide comment from Reed as he sat in his desk and began to work with great acquiescence.

 

Hours passed by like days, and by the time it was 4 PM, Hank was fucking out of there. He had gotten enough work done and was extremely glad to be out of that building. He got into his car, which he briefly considered cleaning but wanted to get to Connor's fucking yoga place early for "private lessons", so he set a mental note to clean his car another day. Not a Wednesday or a Saturday, anyway. He shifted into reverse, backing out of the parking lot and then shifted into drive. He managed to calm himself down on the ride home from the irritation of work that day, blasting heavy metal into his ears with earbuds, considering the other cars next to him might not want the same. He waited about 20 fucking hours at a red light before being able to continue his journey home, since the big lump of fur needed food and water. And the big lump of fur probably needed to take a shit. He pulled onto his street, grateful to finally be home even though he knew he would be setting out again for the, uh, private lessons. He heard a 'Boof!' and knew Sumo must have seen him through a window or heard his car. He rolled his eyes and unlocked his door, trying not to get attacked by Sumo as he walked into his house. He closed the door behind him and made his way to the kitchen to get Sumo's food. He poured the dog some food and made sure he still had water (he did) and let the big lump outside. He sat in the chilly air for a moment in thought, not at all acknowledging the dog, but thinking about Connor. A lot of his mind nowadays was filled with thoughts of Connor, whether he liked it or not. He thought about Connor a lot. He was thinking about the "private yoga lessons" and how much he'd probably frustrate Connor with how not flexible and absolutely not fit he is. Frustrated Connor sounds hot.

Oh god, did he really just think that?

He shook his head as if it'd clear it, though thoughts still swarmed in his mind. He noticed Sumo nudging his ankle and realized Sumo wanted back in. He got up and let the dog back in, as well as himself. He walked to his bathroom after watching Sumo flop down onto the ground in his usual spot by the television. He grabbed a hair-tie from his ex-wife's old pack that he still had. He knew these could be useful at one point. With a pang, he remembered making a tiny ponytail in Cole's hair when they had been about to get it cut. It wasn't nearly as long as Hank's was now, but it still hurt to remember. Bittersweet, most memories were. He shooed the memory away. Shit like that was not gonna ruin his evening. He wore an old T-shirt that was actually rather big on him (he had begun dieting [in hopes that Connor would notice] recently). It was only 4:12 when he took a minute to mentally prepare himself for whatever the fuck would happen in that room.

But he would soon find that nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, that's right. i'm ending the chapter like that.


	8. Arriving Early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank arrives early and warms up with Connor.

Hank was outside of his house and putting the address Connor gave him for the building in his GPS. He made his way to the yoga place Connor had told him about, arriving and just then realizing he had no idea what room Connor was in. He also realized that he had Connor's number (he could have texted him on his painful nights of pining... idiot!) and could just ask. So he did, he asked "Hey, what room are you in?" and got a very quick response.

"Room 8 :)", it read, so Hank walked down the hall until he found Room 8. He knocked and heard Connor's sing-song voice from inside.

"You can come in~!" Connor had called. Hank opened the door and almost fucking died.

Connor was wearing a baggy shirt that practically hung off his shoulder and TIGHTS. Fuckin' TIGHTS. He was wearing extremely short, skin-tight black shorts over them just so you couldn't see his boxers. Not only that, he was doing a fucking split and Hank had quite the view of Connor's perfect ass. He could even see the hem of Connor's boxers through the tights. He meant to speak, but his words caught in his throat as he tore his eyes from Connor's ass. He looked to Connor's face, as Connor had just turned his head around, still doing the fucking split.

"Hello,  _Hank~_ ," He greeted, emphasizing Hank's name in a way that shouldn't be legal. And Hank had no fucking idea why Connor was talking like this or if it was just him, but Jesus Christ fucking Santa Claus, why was it getting to him as much as it was? Hank was just standing there, at a complete loss for words. When he did speak, it had absolutely nothing to do with whatever the fuck he just witnessed.

"Hey, Con. I, uh, I forgot a mat." Hank said, not wanting awkward silence to fall just after they greeted each other.

"Oh, that's quite alright. I have one you can use." Connor replied and walked up to a door. Hank was definitely not watching his ass. Connor opened what seemed to be a supply closet and pulled out a navy blue mat. He closed it, but not before Hank noticed that the closet could probably fit both of them. Some food for thought. Connor was walking over to Hank with the mat and for whatever reason Hank's heart was fucking slamming against his chest so hard and fast that he swore it was trying to escape. Was it really just because he was in a room alone with Connor?

Oh,  _God_ , he was in a room alone with Connor.

In the back of his mind, he wondered when it got this bad. He had some long nights of pining, but he never really let that get to him when he was actually around Connor. "You sure I'm not totally gonna embarrass myself in front of people who are, like, ten times better at yoga?" Hank asked, self-conscious for obvious reasons.

"This is only my 3rd class, Hank," Connor told him. Oh. "Even so, I've noticed that you've already lost some weight," Connor commented and brought his hands to Hank's chest before pulling them away. Hank actually blushed like he was a fucking teenager.

"Uh, yeah... Just cuttin' back on alcohol," He admitted sheepishly. "And dieting..." He added in a mutter. Connor smiled and grabbed his hand with that same, intense look in his eyes.

"You'll be fine, Hank," Connor assured with such certainty that Hank wanted to pull away out of fear that Connor could feel so strongly. He then remembered the certainty, or lack thereof, of Connor this morning.

"What were you going to say to me this mornin'?" Hank asked, genuinely curious now what it was that Connor was going to say.

"Maybe one day I'll grow the balls to tell you," Connor repeated what Hank had said that morning. He was smiling, but it didn't look happy. He pulled his hand away and Hank's hand fell to his side. Hank couldn't keep looking at that pained smile, so he looked at his shoes, suddenly finding them extremely interesting. Connor spoke again to break the silence. "I'll just... I'll just see what you can do," He said and sat back down on the mat. Hank figured he was supposed to sit down as well, so he did. He sat on the navy blue mat Connor had pulled out and looked up at him now.

"You sure you're willing to teach me?" Hank asked, knowing how much he might frustrate Connor.

"Positive. Now, uh... Touch your toes." Connor started with something simple, then demonstrated as though Hank didn't know how to touch his toes. Despite Connor touching his toes with ease, his expression was concentrated. Hank bent his knees and touched his toes, knowing he was doing it wrong. Connor gave him a 'really?' look. Hank sighed and straightened his legs, reaching as far as he could with a low groan. He couldn't even reach his fuckin' toes. Connor seemed fine with this, though. "At least you're cooperating..." He muttered, standing up. Hank stood up too. Connor stretched his arms up. Hank did too, feeling his age all of a sudden. He actually stretched rather than just holding his arms up like he was tempted to do. Connor gave him a little nod with a small smile on his face. Hank smiled too because that bastard's smile is contagious. Connor stretched his arms behind his back and Hank followed, despite his protesting body. 

About 20 seconds later, Connor stopped.

"Lunges. 10 of them." Connor commanded. Oh, GOD. Hank silently wished he was behind Connor solely for the view he would be receiving. "Like this," Connor said and demonstrated.  _Yeah, I fuckin' know,_  Hank thought but didn't say out loud, just nodded. Connor started counting quietly and with each one, the pain got worse. Hank let out a brief string of "oww"s by the final one. Connor gave him a soft smile. Hank was surprised he didn't melt at just how cute Connor was. He was horrified when Connor spoke again, though:

"Hmm... Ten squats."

When Hank didn't budge, Conor rolled his eyes. "Do I need to demonstrate?" He asked sarcastically. Hank's cheeks flushed slightly and he shook his head. Hank hadn't done a squat (or a lunge) in well over ten years, but when Connor started counting, he did them anyway, despite many protests from his already aching muscles. When they finished, Hank was tempted to flop on the ground and die.

"Ow." He groaned. "Ow" was the biggest understatement of the fucking year. Connor's expression softened, less concentrated and more gentle.

"Thank you for actually doing it," The angel chuckled. Hank raised a brow, surprised  _Connor_  was thanking  _him_.

"You're offering it for free, it's the  _least_  I could do," Hank replied honestly. It hurt like hell, but he didn't totally hate it. He was starting to get used to the pain of being unfit.

And then, Connor said: "Ten push-ups."

_I HATE THIS, I HATE THIS-_  Hank's body screamed NO but he got into a push-up position anyway. Just as Connor opened his mouth to start counting, there was a knock on the door. "My savior," Hank muttered as Connor sighed and made his way to the door. Hank's eyes rested on the clock, which read 5:00.

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _oh lawd they comin_


	9. Not All New Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank meets the other members of the small yoga class. Simon clearly knows something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter but yknow,, nEw cHArAcTeRs!1!!!11!

  
With brief disappointment, Hank realized that the knock on the door was most likely someone else coming into the room for the actual class. He luckily thought to get out of push-up position and stand up before Connor opened the door to let in a male with brown eyes and short brown hair that was mainly hidden with a baseball cap, wearing a grey military jacket with patches. The man took off his jacket and put it on the coat hanger that Hank hadn't even noticed before. He was holding a yoga mat, which was white with pigeons. Hank didn't even know that they had yoga mats that were more than flat colors. But, then again, Hank knew absolutely nothing about yoga. Behind him was a beautiful girl, whom Hank recognized from the coffee shop. She was alone this time with her blond hair in a bun and a pale blue yoga mat that looked much like her eyes. Connor let them in, giving them a friendly greeting. Hank watched as the two, who were obviously younger than him, laid out their mats. Connor gave Hank a gentle smile. "Hank, this is Rupert.  Rupert, Hank." Connor motioned to the male with the short brown hair. Hank reached out his hand and shook hands with the bird-mat dude, or Rupert, that Connor introduced him to. He turned to the pale female expectantly, and when Connor didn't speak, she gave a small smile ( _not as cute as Connor's smile,_ Hank thought in the back of his mind) and spoke in a soft voice.

"I'm Chloe," The blonde, Chloe, told him and held out her hand.

"Hank," Hank introduced himself very very briefly and shook her hand. Soft, but surprisingly not as soft as Connor's were. He brought his hand back just as a dark-skinned male walked in carrying a dark magenta mat. 

"Hello, Josh. This is Hank." Connor greeted the male, Josh, as soon as he noticed him coming in. Hank gave a wave, and Josh waved back with a small smile.

"Hello," Josh said quietly as he laid out his mat behind Rupert's. Then, Simon (Hank remembered worrying that Connor liked Simon more than him when he saw Simon make Connor giggle) walked in. Hank saw Simon smirk and exchange a look with Connor. Connor blushed and made a cutting motion with his hand, mouthing "Stop!" as Simon snickered. Though, seconds later, the blonde male gathered himself and walked over to Hank.

"Hi, Hank. Connor has told me  _a lot_  about you." Simon clearly was trying not to smirk. Hank glanced over at Connor. His face was in his hands. Hank honestly had no idea what Simon knew, but it was probably even more than Hank knew.

"Uh, hey," Hank said, and then Connor whistled from the front of the room. Everyone turned to face the brunette, Simon laying out his mat behind Hank. Connor was standing on his beige mat, which had occasional swirls of white.

"Now that you've all met Hank, shall we begin?" Hank heard Connor ask, and he sounded more like a test administrator from Hank's old college rather than a yoga instructor. There were a few nods and Connor eyed them disapprovingly. "Shall we begin?" He asked in a louder voice and gave a small laugh when there was a loud, scattered chorus of different forms of 'yes'; Hank just groaned. Connor gave him a thankful smile. Hank just sighed as Connor sat on his mat and everyone, including Hank, followed suit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very small class indeed. only 4 members...  
> *looks at smudged writing on hand*  
> ruqrt, chee, job, henk, and simn


	10. Fucking Yoga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank does some yoga and tries not to die from Connor. Connor confuses Hank even more.

Everyone's eyes were on Connor, who was sitting in the front of the class on his mat. After a few seconds of silence, his soft voice rang out. "We're going to be doing a beginner's workout today." He simply said, looking at all of the 5 members in the room. He turns on a Promethean board Hank hadn't even noticed and pulls up an image of the workout they'd be doing:

 

Connor looked from the board to the small number of people in the room. Hank just nodded, dreading most of these. Connor looked uncertain as his gaze went from one member to the other. "Okay, I'll demonstrate the first one for you. If the picture doesn't demonstrate it well enough, that is." Connor said and did the first of the twelve positions. Hank tried to recreate it and literally heard something crack. Connor and Josh looked at him, Connor looking concerned at the least. Hank just gave an awkward shrug, or what was supposed to be one. It wasn't easy shrugging in... whatever the fuck position he was in. "Warrior I," said the image. They stayed like that for about a minute and Hank's knees were threatening to give out, so he was grateful when Connor stopped. 

Although he couldn't be happy for long, because a few seconds later, Connor called out "Next position!" and got into 'Warrior II.' Hank thought he was doing it but was incorrect when he realized it was his left leg that had to go to the right. Oh, that's... He sighed and fixed himself, now beginning to feel the pain. Of course, he wasn't doing it right before. It didn't hurt. Now it did, though, and he was very thankful to move on from that. 

And then he saw Connor get into the third position: Warrior III. Did they seriously just not have any sort of ideas of what to name these? Hank nearly fell about eight times trying to put himself in the position and had one hell of a time trying to stay in it. He noticed as he was looking up at Connor, though, that Connor had stopped. He almost fell to the ground but managed to stand successfully with a lot of fucking willpower he didn't know he had. 

He looked back up at the Promethean board and swore to himself that if he saw another position that had anything to do with warriors, he would up and fucking leave this room. With a great deal of struggling, he got into the position about 10 seconds later than everyone else had, not being able to reach his hand down his ankle nearly as far as everyone else could, although it was clear that they were struggling as well. Hank suddenly realized that he wasn't entirely bad. Well, comparing him to others, he was still the worst at it but he wasn't terrible. He was... trying...

Connor switched the position to the fifth one, fucking "downward facing dog", and Hank nearly choked on air. Connor just had to do it facing the wall, so Hank was there with a perfect fucking view of his ass. Hank tried to look up to admire the view and actually fucking fell. He let out a very embarrassed laugh as everyone looked over at him... Oops? Connor turned around and look back at Hank. And that motherfucker... that motherfucker had the  _audacity_ to fucking WINK. Hank rolled his eyes. 

He was very glad that Connor got out of that position soon after and switched to the sixth one, which was way less painful for Hank down there because Connor had the decency to face Hank this time. Hank swore that Connor did that shit on purpose, the wink was just the icing on the fucking cake. He felt some area in his chest burn and winced, soon feeling the pain of this position as he did with every position so far.

Connor luckily got out of that position as well, and Hank realized with dread that the next position was a squat hold. Or, "Chair." Luckily, Connor faced the class for this one too and decided not to torture Hank. Hank couldn't describe the sheer agony of this position. It felt like his legs were on fire and he almost fell over twice before Connor decided that was enough of that position.

Then... Revolved Chair? Yeah, Hank was gonna have to sit this one out. He watched as Connor did it perfectly and the others... tried to do it perfectly as well, and most of them were alright. Connor gave him a pleading look, puppy eyes and all, and Hank just rolled his eyes and did the fucking position. He instantly felt it and it was awful, agonizing. He was about to fucking collapse when Connor stood back up. Even Connor looked a bit disgruntled after that one, but he didn't show it apart from a slight sweat drop on his forehead and furrowed brows. Hank is suddenly glad he thought to wear deodorant, too, because he wasn't sweating too badly but was still sweating none-the-less.

Connor turned to look at the board to see what was next, and didn't turn back around, just did position number 9, which was the "Standing Half-Forward Bend." Connor was going all out, and Hank did it as well, but couldn't pretend he wasn't eying Connor's ass again. Connor was bending far enough to see Hank's thoroughly fucking crimson face, and he just gave a mocking smile. "Is something the matter, Hank?" He asked sweetly, his voice like poisoned honey. Connor just  _had_  to know what he was doing.

Simon snickered from behind Hank.

Hank looked at the ground with his face feeling like it was on fire too and shook his head. Connor luckily stopped with that position, and Hank rose back up and stood, feeling immediate alleviation. Then Connor glanced over at the board, not turning around fully as he had before, and did the "Forward Bend." Hank was just thinking  _end me now_ as he gave an attempt to do the position. Pain. Lots of it. Hank wasn't even doing it right, he literally, physically, could not do it. But he did what he could. 

Connor must have deemed that good enough because he was standing up again and turning his head to look at the next position. Hank was grateful that it was a push-up hold, or a plank, which he could do. Connor got down in a push-up position and held it and Hank did too. It got to the point where his arms were shaking slightly, but Hank still held his fucking position until Connor got up. 

Hank looked up from his "position" (he was now flopped on the ground, not held up by his shaky arms) and saw the 12th and final position. Okay, so another push-up hold but arguably more painful. Nice. He didn't have to do much as he waited for Connor to get back down and he got into the position. His elbows gave out at one point but he got back up, and Connor smiled very wide at him, and this made him feel... surprisingly good about himself. Eventually, at the point where Hank's elbows were shaking terribly, Connor stopped, actually flopping to the ground himself and letting out a small "whew..." before getting up and wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Everyone stood up as well, and Hank's knees were buckling beneath him but he managed to lock his knees and keep himself standing.

"I'm very impressed, you all did very well," Connor commented, looking from person to person and stopping to smile at Hank. Hank smiled back. Contagious. Connor spoke again. "You may leave now." He dismissed the members, and people began to gather their things and leave the classroom. As Hank was about to wave goodbye to Connor, Connor grabbed his arm and stopped him. He turned to Connor. "Hank? Can I say something to you?" He asked, not letting go of Hank's arm. Simon made a choked noise as he winked at Connor. Connor scowled at him, the most menacing thing Hank had seen on Connor (wasn't very menacing, to be honest.)

"Yeah, sure." Hank agreed, obviously, and Connor was clearly waiting for everyone to exit. Once the door had closed and left them alone, Connor looked back at Hank.

That fucking look was in his eyes again, and suddenly Hank's heart was pounding. He was alone in the room with Connor again, but now they were a whole lot closer than they had been before. Hank didn't say a fucking word, just waited for Connor to speak. Connor, to Hank's surprise, just said nothing. Just stared Hank with such hesitance that it was painful for Hank to watch Connor have an obvious internal struggle. Before Hank could even begin to speak, Connor pulled him into an embrace. Hank was standing there at first, surprised, but soon hugged the male back.

"This is for...?" Hank asked, looking down at Connor's head, which was in his shoulder. Connor broke away.

"Maybe one day I'll have the balls to tell you."

And he walked out, leaving a confused Hank standing in the middle of the classroom holding a yoga mat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slooooowww burn  
> it's here


	11. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor are miserable with their stress, thinking one doesn't love the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda short but oh well

Hank was driving home and his head was swimming. What couldn't Connor tell him? Why had Connor just left? It was all so frustrating. Hank was so stressed he almost got into a wre-

**The truck skidding on ice, hitting my car, knocking it over.**

**Cole, screaming, screaming so lou-**

He hears a honk. The light he was waiting for had just turned green. He drove, grateful to turn the corner onto his street and get home. He felt like he was going to be sick by the time he went inside.

❊                    ❊                   ❊

Connor had just arrived in his own apartment, hitting the couch with a thud. Why was this all so confusing? He pulled out his phone.

"Call please?" He sent Simon, but he didn't give a chance to answer and called his friend. Simon took a nice minute, but he picked up.

"Hang on, Markus." Connor heard Simon say away from the phone. "I'm sorry, babe, it's important." He said, still sounding distant. Then his voice was clearer. "You good?" Was the first thing he asked. Connor sighed.

"Honestly, Simon? I don't know anymore. I've never felt like this about anyone and it's so- so frustrating, conf-"

"Connor,  _chill_." Simon interrupted Connor's venting.

"I'm sorry." Connor apologized, trying to gather himself. His nails had been digging into his palms and they had started bleeding. He hadn't even noticed. "It's just... I  _really_  like him, Simon."

"No shit," Simon scoffed, and Connor could practically hear Simon's eye roll.

"I don't know how to get him to let me in," Connor began. But before he could continue, Simon interrupted again.

"Let you in?" He questioned.

"Yeah, he has... baggage. I want to help him, but I don't know how." Connor doesn't even know what baggage he is talking about, just recalling what Hank said this morning. It felt like days ago.

"Patience, he might take a while." Simon admonished.

"Yeah, I know..." Connor sighed. He wanted... It was all so confusing. Connor wasn't naturally a flirt; he hadn't even had his first kiss before. But ever since he met Hank, he's been tempted to do things he had never even imagined before. Doing things he had never done before. "Thanks, Simon. I think I'm gonna sleep early." Connor lied. He knew he wouldn't, couldn't, sleep.

"Alright, see ya, Conman," Simon said.

"Have fun with Markus," Connor teased and hung up, plopping his phone back down. He picked it back up less than a minute later, though. He opened his messages with Hank (which just contained the addresses and Hank asking for the room number) and stared. He began typing without  _really_  knowing what he was going to say.

"I have something to say. Since I m-" No. Connor backspaced it all.

"I know you may not feel the s-" Still no.

An hour passed and Connor had said nothing. He had typed 80 different attempts, sure, but he did not send a thing. He put his phone down on the coffee table and lay across the couch. He just stared at the ceiling, mind still racing.

And he wasn't the only one, either.

  ❊                     ❊                      ❊  

Hank, who had poured all of his alcohol in the sink to avoid falling into old habits (he left one bottle), was also sitting on the couch. His gun was where he usually kept it. He was not taking it out tonight. He was trying to think of what was wrong with Connor. What he could have done to upset Connor. His mind was racing and it was all Connor Connor Connor. He'd only known Connor for a month, maybe two, now. It felt like years. He tapped his fingers on the couch. Sumo, who was sitting in front of it, licked his hand. "Yeah, hi, Sumo." Hank gave a half-hearted laugh and scratched behind the dog's ears. Sumo leaned into his hand.

Hank recalled Connor, who had leaned into his hand when he ruffled his hair. He didn't know how he'd speak to Connor tomorrow. He had absolutely no idea. He opened his phone to his messages with Connor. He actually saw that Connor was typing. He got his hopes up immediately, staring into the screen, transfixed.

Connor stopped typing.

Hank just stared for a moment longer, thinking maybe Connor had just dropped his phone or tapped a notification by accident. But there was no more typing.

Moron.

And Hank felt like one, too, getting his hopes up.

What couldn't Connor tell him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> foreshadowing. always look for it.  
> also howdy slow burn


	12. Waking Up, But Did You Really Sleep?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor both stressed all night, leaving them tired and unhappy in the morning.

Hank woke up with a terrible headache. It felt like somebody was fucking drilling into his brain. He knew it wasn't a hangover, he hadn't drunk last night. He didn't touch the remaining alcohol. He got up from the couch, stretching and wincing when he felt pain in his neck. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He wanted so badly to collapse back onto the couch, but then again, he wouldn't be able to see Connor if he did that. So he got up, went to piss, trimmed his beard, showered, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. It hurt with every step he took. Probably because of the yoga. He painfully walked into the living room and greeted Sumo, who had bounded over to him almost as soon as he walked out from his bedroom. He pet the big lump, scratching the dog's chin. He left the dog to eat breakfast, pouring himself some... uh... Dried Grape Bran.

He winced with almost every step. He expected to be sore, but this was fucking overkill. He grabbed the milk and poured it into the bowl, almost spilling it in the process. He didn't even eat much of it and ended up throwing most of it away. He didn't have much of an appetite this morning.

❊                   ❊                   ❊

Connor woke up at 5 in the morning. He only slept for about 26 minutes. He dragged himself off of the sofa, hitting his knee on the coffee table. He let out a cry of surprise (and pain, because ow.) He almost fell over but balanced himself. Ow. He was awake now. He got into his uniform, not having too much trouble doing so since he was only wearing his old shirt and boxers. He pulled on leggings and put on his usual work apron over the old T-shirt. It wasn't torn or dirty, so he didn't care enough to change it. He walked to the bathroom to, well, use it, and check how bad he looked. He tried to comb his hair flat (unsuccessfully) and applied foundation over his eye bags in an attempt to cover them. It worked well enough. 

Minutes later, while driving to the cafe, he subconsciously rubbed his eyes. He didn't notice, though, and arrived at Jerrys' Cafe. He parked his car behind the small building and walked in through the back. He greeted Jerry 2 (their name tags were numbered in the order of their age [by seconds]), who was cleaning mugs and preparing to open the cafe. Jerry 3 was cleaning tables and Jerry 1 was counting money from the register. Connor could tell from the redhead's mumbles that he was trying to figure out how much would be left after paying bills and how much he could pay the employees. Connor and Simon weren't paid too much, but they were doing well enough financially, so it was alright. Plus, it seemed that every few days, another person would find the cafe and incorporate it into their daily routine as Hank had begun to do.

Connor saw Kara, a recent hire, arrive looking flustered. "Sorry, I'm so late!" She panted. She really wasn't late, though.

"No worries, Kara, we haven't opened yet!" Jerry 1 laughed, patting Kara on the back, who was catching her breath. Kara lived close by, so she biked to work. She didn't have a car, either, so it's not like there were many other alternatives.

"Hi, Kara," Connor said, his voice sounding tired and unlike him. He saw Simon in the back preparing things to bake. He was tempted to just fall onto the floor and sleep, but he gave Simon a half-hearted wave. Simon turned to him.

"Hey Co... Dude..." Simon looked upset and concerned.

"What?" Connor asked quietly, not even having the energy to speak loud. Simon huffed and pulled Connor into the staff restroom. He let Connor go and pointed to the mirror. Connor only just saw himself for the first time since that morning when he applied the foundation. It was smeared and it was quite obvious that he was trying to cover the eye bags. He looked at Simon, feeling guilty. "Sorry..." He mumbled.

"Apologize to  _yourself_ , Connor." Simon sighed. "This is the kind of shit you pulled in college trying to pass an exam, not... not now."

"I know. I just can't stop thinking about him." Connor admitted, although it clearly wasn't a shock to Simon. Connor was constantly wanting to talk to Hank, but he never knew how to help. He especially had no idea how to confess to Hank. He wiped the rest of the foundation off, because at least then it wouldn't be obvious that he failed at concealing it.

"Just... take it slow," Simon advised. Connor nodded. He tried to fix his hair, but it clearly didn't feel like cooperating, so he walked out with Simon behind him. Simon put the pastries in the oven, and Connor prepared coffee. Despite being a waiter, he knew how to make the foods they had on the menu. And, of course, he knew how to make coffee. He served the people who came every day their usual orders, growing more worried as more time passed without Hank showing up. He almost dropped a platter with a ham and cheese croissant and orange juice for North. He handed Chloe, who was next to North, her coffee, which had been in the other hand.

"Connor, are you alright?" North asked, more than likely because she saw the dark circles under his eyes.

"Peachy." He said heartily, his voice sounding a lot cheerier than he expected. He was about to walk away, but North slapped his hand and put a 5 dollar bill in it. He smiled and mouthed 'thank you', walking back into the kitchen.

The door opened with quiet bells (they'd been attached to the door about a week back) jingling. Connor's head whipped around.

It was Hank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> owo whats this  
> yeah thats right  
> its a fucking cliffhanger


	13. Taking it Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is patient, learning more about Hank. They both know that they are keeping secrets.

Connor saw Hank and let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He watched as Hank sat at the usual table. He hurried into the kitchen and prepared Hank's coffee, not rushing the coffee and pouring a bit more than usual because Hank looked almost as tired as Connor felt (and was.) He walked over to the table, careful not to spill Hank's coffee. "Hi, Hank." He chirped when he met Hank at the usual table. Hank looked up at him, lack of sleep quite obvious on his face. Connor resisted the urge to frown, but he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Hey, Con." Was all Hank said before he took the coffee and drank half of it. Connor looked from him to the coffee. He could really use a coffee right now. Hank put the mug down and looked back up at Connor. He put his hands on Connor's face, tracing the dark circles under his eyes.

"Looks like you and I have the same problem," Hank chuckled. Connor's heart was beating hard. He liked it when Hank touched him. He had to suppress an urge that he didn't even want to think about further. Hank let his hand fall down to the table. Hank had no idea how much Connor loved him. He was tempted to say it, here and now. But he remembered Simon's words and figured it'd be for the best that Connor takes it slow. So Connor chatted about different things, changing the subject from both of them's sleep deprivation. He gave Hank hints, but Hank just really wasn't getting it.

And he did. For several weeks. He'd asked Hank questions without trying to be too pushy. Hank had improved a lot at yoga, and they'd drifted from beginner's yoga to intermediate. Connor was pretty f... Alright, he'd say it. He was pretty fucking proud of Hank. He just wished he could show it better than a smile. But every time he was tempted to do so, Simon's words called him back to rationality. It'd be best to get closer to Hank. And he did get closer, learning more and more about the police lieutenant he just had to fall in love with. Hank's favorite color was blue, and that was something he and Hank had in common.

"I am really starting to appreciate brown, though." Hank had said. Connor didn't use to like blue nearly as much. But then he met Hank. That was... two and a half months ago. He also learned what Hank's best subject in school was: Social Studies (or History.) Connor's, academically, was English Language Arts. He was always great in Physical Education, though. Connor recalled a few of their conversations. On one morning, he'd asked Hank's favorite food:

"What's your favorite food?"

"Used to be cheeseburgers. I'm not too sure, now. I don't really eat those anymore." Hank had said. Connor thought for a moment before responding.

"You'll just have to try new things, hm?"

On another morning, Connor asked, "What do you like in a partner?"

"Damn, that's a tough one. I'm a romantic old sap. I just like the love in a relationship, because you just... you can feel that it's there, and it's the most warming thing."

Connor smiled at that. "I think I know what you mean," He had replied. He knew that he knew what Hank meant. Because... Because he was in love with Hank. Shocker.

Less than a week later, Connor asked him, "What's your ideal date?"

"Just being outside at night. It's really nice out there if you're out in nature or some shit. Just away from people where you can see the stars..." Hank had trailed off, but Connor was listening attentively.

"I'll remember that," He had hummed.

And a few days ago, on Tuesday, Connor inquired, "What do you like the least about me?"

"The fact that you're hiding something from me." Hank didn't take long to say it.

"Hypocrite," Connor remarked, smirking. Hank just looked away with a guilty look on his face, but Connor gave him a friendly shove. "Maybe one day we'll grow the balls to tell each other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i snuck on to write this, you're _welcome_


	14. Christmas Time Comes Rollin' In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The staff at the cafe as well as North, Chloe, Luther (Kara's boyfriend), Ralph, and Hank decorate the cafe for Christmas.

It was December, and on Friday, Connor decorated the cafe with the rest of the staff. He'd been texting Hank a lot more often now, too, so he had texted Hank about it. Hank came bearing lots and lots of Christmas decorations. He even brought a Christmas tree, which Kara almost put together wrong. Her boyfriend, Luther, had come to help decorate and ended up setting up the tree himself for everyone to decorate. Kara was useful, though, and ended up sharing a recipe for chocolate mint cookies to Simon. Simon tried to bake based off of what Kara was telling him. In Hank's words: "Really fucking good." Connor had hung up a mistletoe, which Kara and Luther immediately kissed under. Ralph, another patron invited by Jerry 1, had gasped. Jerry 2 had invited North and Chloe, so the people who had been everyday customers for a long time were here.

Connor knew that Hank definitely noticed the mistletoe, despite hanging up ornaments with North and Jerry 2. Connor had caught him eying it on many occasions. Hank had just found out that North and Chloe were a couple. As though to prove it, North yanked Chloe under the mistletoe. With embarrassment and acquiescence, Chloe kissed back. Ralph had seen this, too, and looked away after glancing at Jerry 1. Hank had looked at the mistletoe, and then at Connor. His cheeks reddened when Connor caught him glancing. Connor was a very observant person. He noticed these things.

He also wanted to kiss Hank but knew it wasn't the right time. He hung some more decorations as Hank drunk hot cocoa and Simon tried to memorize the recipe. He kept using Connor as a tester for the cookies, so Connor ran back and forth between the kitchen where Simon was making the cookies and where Christmas decorations were being hung. He noticed Hank staring at his ass at one point and winked because he knew how much Hank hated (loved) it.

After the third cookie, all three having turned out better than the last, Connor told Simon to stop or at least get someone else as a test monkey. Connor didn't want to throw his meticulous diet out the window because Simon was a perfectionist. Connor swayed in his swivel chair to "Jingle Bell Rock" and watched as Hank walked over to him.

"You know what, Connor?" Hank asked, looking out at the activity in the cafe.

"What?"

"I'm really happy I met you." Hank had turned and was looking at Connor with a smile.

"...Yeah. Me too." Connor replied honestly. Happy was an understatement. Connor looked over at Hank and smiled back, hoping it conveyed what words could not.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UwU  
> it's coming


	15. Hank ♥

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank wakes up in a good mood, greeting and flirting with Connor at the cafe. Connor, also in a good mood, is also feeling quite flirtatious.

Hank woke up the next morning in a very good mood, doing his morning "routine." He'd slept in until about 11, 12-ish so he finally felt like he'd got enough sleep. He actually ate breakfast, although all he made was an egg salad sandwich. He washed it down with the last of his (not spiked) orange juice. He'd cleaned out his fridge a week back and bought healthier things, feeling like a soccer mom looking up healthy recipes. Mainly because a lot of it was healthier things, but for children. Hank was a grown ass man. He'd set up Christmas lights that he hadn't brought to the cafe outside of his house as well, feeling Christmas-y this year. 

Today was Saturday. And it was also Christmas Eve. 

He walked outside, deciding to walk to the cafe today. He saw more people than usual making their daily commute, some wearing panicking expressions and speed-walking with bags in their hands. Hank stopped at the cafe, smiling at the decorations outside. They'd done a pretty good job. 

He walked in, hearing the bells jingle behind him. He sat at his usual table and watched Connor turn, watching his brown eyes immediately look to the table. He saw Connor's face light up, his eyes sparkling. Hank smiled as he watched Connor rush over. "Hi, Hank!" He chimed, clearly in a good mood as well.

"Hey,  _ange_. I'd like the usual, but I can't stay long," Hank said, wondering if Connor knew French. Judging by the fact that Connor gave no reaction to the nickname, he assumed that Connor did not.

"You aren't working today, no?" Connor asked, looking upset.

"God, no. I just need to buy something for someone. I'll still be at the class and everything, don't worry, dork." Hank explained, messing up Connor's hair. Connor leaned into it before Hank put his hand back down.

"Okay!" Connor chirped, blushing at the namecalling. He went off to get Hank the coffee, bringing out a paper cup. That was clearly a new addition. Connor stopped and took out a sharpie he had in his apron pocket. Hank saw him write something on the cup and then he continued to walk over to Hank. He handed Hank the coffee and smiled. Hank took it out of his hand and looked at it. It said "Hank ♥". 

He turned to leave, but before he could, Connor took his arm and kissed his cheek. Hank blushed like a madman as Connor fucking GIGGLED  _again_. He watched as Connor ran off to the kitchen, blushing also. Fucking twink. Hank walked out of the cafe, coffee in hand, and walked back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sof


	16. Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank seeks the help of an old friend to find a fitting Christmas gift for Connor.

Hank had finished his coffee and got into his car, driving to an old place he knew of. The route was all too familiar, too, as he drove down the winter-ridden streets of Detroit. He stopped at the flower shop past it's prime, the building in its entirety seeming a lot more lackluster than Hank remembered. He walked in, hearing the quiet ding that would ring out every time someone walked in, which he remembered all too well. He heard a gasp.

"Hank?!" It was Violet, the owner of the flower shop. "Didn't she-"

"Yeah. It's not her." Hank interrupted.

"Oh, that's... that's wonderful, Hank." Violet said, smiling.

"He is," Hank said vaguely. "Wonderful, I mean." He added. Violet looked surprised when Hank said 'he', but bounced back fast.

"That's great. I haven't seen you in years." She turned to a door where she kept more flowers. Violet was a friend of Hank's from high school. He'd known her for a pretty damn long time. He hadn't seen her in a pretty long time, though. Not since he married his ex-wife. He did end up telling her about Cole and the divorce, though. He didn't want to think about that.

"Gimme like, the bluest flower you can find," Hank said, and Violet smiled.

"I think I have just the thing." She said confidently.

"Oh, really?"

"Mmmhmm." Violet hummed, motioning for him to follow her into the back room where she always kept most of the flowers that weren't on display. "His favorite color blue?" She asked.

"Yep." Hank simply said and watched as she took out a bouquet she had behind an arrangement of pink and yellow flowers. It contained several different flowers, all blue. Hank smiled.

"It's perfect, Violet. When did you put this together?" He asked, holding the bouquet gently as though it were made of glass.

"Well, I don't get business that often, so I have a lot of time on my hands," She confessed. He looked back up at her and set the bouquet down. He picked up a red and yellow bouquet and pretended to be observing it, but actually slipping $100 in it. He handed the bouquet to her and grabbed the blue bouquet, beginning to walk out. He stopped.

"Keep the change. Try using that to put yourself out there," He advised and walked out of the room.

"Hank, yo-" She was saying, but the door had closed behind him and he was leaving the small flower shop. He carefully placed the flowers down and made his way home to walk Sumo.

As he walked the dog, he got lost in thought. He fantasized about being Connor's boyfriend.

Boyfriend... The term seemed too childish to describe what they would be, how he felt for Connor.

As he went back now, with Sumo at his side, he thought about it more, though nothing seemed to fit. He set a mental note to think about it later because when he arrived home it was 4:37 and he didn't for the life of him want to be late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tango hotel echo  
> charlie alfa lima mike  
> bravo echo foxtrot oscar echo  
> tango hotel echo  
> sierra tango oscar romeo mike  
> :)


	17. Partner Yoga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank arrives early and chats with Connor. They do some lovely, good ol' partner yoga.

  
Connor was waiting in the classroom, just on his phone until he heard a knock. He looked at the clock on his phone. Only Hank came this early, and sure enough, he turned when he heard the door open and saw Hank in several layers of jacket and winter gear. It was really cold outside, after all. He was still carrying that same navy blue yoga mat, though. Hank waved and Connor smiled at him. "Hi, Hank," Connor said.  
  
"Hey, Connor," Hank said, laying out the yoga mat. They talked for a while, Connor learning more small things about Hank, and Hank learning more small things about Connor. They didn't talk about Connor's kiss on the cheek this morning, and Connor was somewhat glad they avoided talking about it. He wouldn't really know how to explain it.  
  
"What did you want to be when you were younger?" Connor had asked, laying on his yoga mat and staring at the barren, plaster ceiling. Hank was sitting next to him on the floor and he had shed his many layers of clothing, in the clothes they usually wore for yoga.  
  
"Fireman," Hank had said reflectively after a bit of thinking.  
  
"Hm," Connor hummed. "I wanted to be a track star."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Never even had the time to join track," Connor confessed. "Plus, my parents were a lot more interested in how I did academically. Not like that matters now, anyway."  
  
Connor's parents had been dead since he was 17. Hank had probably noticed Connor's tone and didn't ask.  
  
"Yeah, but I bet you can probably run like hell anyway," Hank remarked.  
  
"I suppose," Connor said. There was a knock on the door. Simon waved from the doorway. Chloe was behind him with her hair in its usual lazy bun, as it always was for the yoga classes. People slowly filled the classroom.  
  


❊                      ❊                      ❊

Hank returned to his own mat, watching as all 5 members sat down on their own mats, Connor included. He sat down as well, waiting for instruction. Connor, who was sitting in the front on his beige colored mat, opened his mouth to speak. "Today, we'll be trying partner yoga. I will be choosing the partners." Connor announced. Hank heard a stifled laugh from behind him. "Chloe, you will be with Simon." Connor paired the two. Chloe shrugged as Simon brought his mat over to her. "Josh, you will be paired with Rupert." Connor moved his finger from Josh to Rupert, and Josh picked up his mat and brought it over to where Rupert was on his mat. "Hank will work with me. You may begin." Connor finished. Hank smiled and brought his mat over to the front of the classroom. The Promethean board was on now, with a partner yoga routine pictured. Both Hank and Connor were looking at it. Hank turned to Connor.  
  
"I'm assuming I'm on the bottom?" Hank asked. Connor blushed.

"Y-yes, that'd probably be the most reasonable approach..." Connor got quieter, face reddened. Hank caught on and rolled his eyes.

"Puh-lease, you couldn't if you tried," Hank teased and Connor looked more like a tomato with brown hair than Connor. Hank, despite his words, sat down on the mat as his very attractive yoga instructor joined him, they linked hands, and carefully, yet enthusiastically, Connor explained the first steps. Hank's hands felt sweaty already, his fingers locked with Connor's, It wasn't horrible, but being this close made hank's heart race.

Connor instructed the stronger partner to slowly lean onto their backs, and in doing so, place the palms of their feet onto their partner's thighs. Hank cooperated, already feeling the burning heat in his gut as he leaned back at a forty-five-degree angle, and his knees bent. Hank had once been muscular but now was evidently way less fit. He was getting better, though, with this fucking yoga. It was hard to look Connor in the face while doing this, maybe because of the incident this morning, or just the fact that he was painfully in love with the fucking twink. Hank tried his best to keep himself from falling backward, as Connor continued to explain the next steps.

Connor explained the lighter partner had to push back on the mat with their feet as their stronger partner pushes up with their own feet. Then finally, simultaneously together, they stretched their arms and legs out. Hank already had a million thoughts running through his mind, but a few simple actions that totally aren't too complicated shouldn't throw him off, right? Hank followed Connor's instructions, pushing back on the brunette's legs as Connor pushed back on the mat. They outstretched their arms, just like Connor had said to do, and they reached their final potential.

Hank was either a lot stronger than he actually thought he was, or Connor was just a lot lighter than originally thought, I mean, what do you expect from a skinny twink? He guessed he just expected him to be heavier. That fucking ass must be half of his weight, the size of it. Now that they have reached this point, Hank's own opinion changed, that one of Connor's best angles was from above as well, his curly brown hair falling over his flushed features. Connor looked down at Hank, for a moment with his bright smile and twinkling eyes, before he turned back to the class. Connor explained something about the benefits of being close with a partner, some spiritual connection or something, yadda yadda, Hank was more caught up in the way Connor looked.

Hank, having held this position for... longer than they were probably supposed to, couldn't any longer and his body gave out. Connor fell on top of him, his words cut off with a yelp as he fell on top of Hank. Simon, who looked like he was about to fucking explode, did explode. Just... with laughter, not actually explode. Connor was back to looking like a tomato, climbing off of Hank flusteredly. Simon finally managed to calm down, but every time he glanced at Connor glaring at him he started giggling again.

Connor continued to explain, though flustered, and the class did more positions, Hank getting sorer by the fucking second. He swore that any moment now his entire body would just go boneless and Connor would fall on top of him again, but it never did and he managed to get through the 8 positions they were doing that class. Most were less awkward than others, one where Hank was hunched over, with his head in his knees and his legs straight out, and Connor laying against his back with his own, and head resting on the back of his neck. More poses that were much more simple than the first one.

"Fuckin'  _ow,_  Connor..." Hank complained, sitting up on the mat he had brought over to Connor and feeling something in his body protest. Connor gave him the sweetest fucking smile and he seriously thought he melted for a second. Fucking cute bastard. "You're lucky you're cute..." Hank groaned.

"Cute...?" He heard Connor whisper.  _Yes, cute._  He thought it but didn't say it, watching as the male in front of him now fussed over his messy brown hair.

Talking to Connor must have made the time pass by fast... Or it was the 8 positions of yoga. Probably the latter, but whatever it was, it was 6:00 and Connor dismissed everyone, people filing out of the room and waving goodbye and wishing each other Merry Christmases. As Hank smiled at Connor and got up to leave, he suddenly felt really really happy. Stupidly happy. He pulled on his coat, gloves, and his scarf and gave Connor a sheepish wave. The dork waved back, smiling back at Hank.

He left the building in a very good mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is pretty uh...  
> homosexual...


	18. What Could Have Been So Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank finds things. Things he shouldn't have found. He calls Connor.

Hank arrived home, still in a good mood as he was when he left. He took the flowers out of his car and made sure to hold them up and away from Sumo when the dog attacked him with love. He set them down on his table and gave the dog attention, scratching behind Sumo’s ears like he knew the big lump loved. Sumo flopped on his side. Hank rolled his eyes, knowing what the stupid dog wanted and rubbed the fluffy underside of the dog. He gave Sumo’s belly a farewell pat as he got up to get something to eat. He just decided on leftover potato salad, putting some of it in a bowl before closing the container back up and putting it back into the refrigerator. He sat at his table and ate, ignoring the begging dog. The lump wasn’t hungry. He knew that for a fact. After all, he had just watched Sumo eat what was probably about half of the dog food in his dish. He finished, rinsing the bowl in the sink and observed his surroundings.

He still had Christmas decorations he had to put up on his own house, and ones that he had helped set up in the cafe, AND the ones that were still in his car from when he brought them to the cafe, including Connor’s in the back seat, since Connor didn't have a car right now; it was in the shop because the brakes weren’t working properly. He sighed, he knew he would eventually have to put all these away, and despite how sore he was, his mind was telling him to put these away now and save himself the effort. He sighed out another breath and started packing pack up, made his way to his bedroom, and kicked open the old closet door where he put all his old stuff. Old clothes, tools, files and papers, and even some old family photos. Hank set down the box on a pile of boxes, and before he had the chance to even slide close his closet door, the pile of boxes caved in on each other, with an outcome of a number of items falling out of them. Hank groaned and dropped to his knees to gather the things before Sumo ran in to start eating anything. 

Hank was mostly gathering things in handfuls and shoving them in boxes, deciding to go through them later. But something stood out, a small USB, it brought attention to Hank’s eyes, just the fact that he already knew that this was pretty old, and he wasn't sure which box it fell out of so, he decided to put it in his pocket. He picked up all the small things and situated them in his closet so this time, they wouldn't fall over. Hank got up with a groan, his back still aching from position 4, but he got up in time.   
  
Hank decided he would find out what's on the driver, plugging it carefully into his computer and waiting for it to download. He was sure it was some home family video he made back- a long time ago. It took a second for it to install, and knowing this could possibly be a kinky sex tape, he and his ex-wife made almost a decade ago. He got up out of the chair, turning on the living room lamp, and heading to the kitchen to get his bottle out of Black Lamb scotch whiskey, the one he kept and climbed back over to his desk. The video downloaded, there was no title, but there was a date on it. 12/25/32. Hank swallowed hard as he started it.   
  
It was Cole’s second Christmas, Hank thought that it would be a great idea to document Cole’s first steps, and him trying new foods, and his first teeth growing in, his first time coming home. Just the early stages of Cole’s life, knowing it would be great for once Cole was..Older, he could sit down with his own family and watch. Hank let out a sharp breath, shaking and squeezing the neck of his bottle as tears pricked his eyes. Instead of ripping the USB right out of the computer, He sat there, hopelessly watching Cole, a small two-year-old, play with the new toy trucks that Hank had bought him for Christmas that year. He was smiling and sitting between his mother’s legs. Cole was giggling as he smashed the trucks into each other playfully and.. His mother. Mary was very beautiful, Hank had always thought that. She smiled and laughed along with her son, and looked up into the camera. Supposedly at Hank who had been recording.

Hank had already been sipping on the bottle, so he had definitely been intoxicated, to say the least. Hank’s mind was racing despite the fact, he felt sick and judged, he remembered the look his wife gave him when she had gone off on him for not driving safe enough or putting Cole in danger. His mind traveled to other places, remembering things that if Hank were sober, he would have never wanted to think about again.

  
_The car sliding on the ice, the car flipping over._

_Cole screaming at the top of his lungs, crashing of glass and steel._ _  
_

_The ambulance, the surgeon, the rage, the-_

Before Hank knew it, he already had his revolver in his left hand, His mostly empty-whiskey bottle in his right. And on the desk laid his phone, on speaker, calling someone really important to him. Someone he really, really should not call in this state, and someone Hank would never want to see when he is drunk.  

  ❊                       ❊                       ❊  

Connor had been home for quite a while now, getting some last minute wrapping done for Christmas. When his phone had gone off, his phone rang with a special tone. Some soft love song that was overplayed in 2016... ‘But I- Can’t- Help- Falling in loooveee, wiitthhhhh yooouuu...' ringing out. Connor practically hopped over his desk chair, almost tripped through his carpet, and scrambled onto his bed. He looked down at his phone screen and frantically pressed the accept call button. 

“..Hank? Is everything alright?” Connor asked.

“Eeeey, Connor! I'm soooo glad you picked up…!” Hank slurred, a tone that Connor had never heard before. He sounded, sad, like his voice was broken yet he sounded intoxicated, slurred. In the background Connor could hear a quiet click, he also could hear something else, a child and a woman’s voice, ..but he could also hear Hank’s voice. Over all of the noise, he could hear a whirring sound.

“Hank? What are you watching?” Connor spoke into the phone, now sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Cole and Mary…” Hank mumbled, a click and a whirl could be heard again.

“Who are they?” Connor asked, after a small moment of silence between the click and whirl.   
  
“My son, and ex-wife... “ He mumbled again. Click, a small curse that wasn't audible but sounded like a  _fuck,_ and Connor was stunned.   
  
“You have a son?” Connor asked. He was fine with it, he never had a problem with kids. Whiirrrrr.

“I did,” Hank croaked. Click.

Oh. So that was the baggage Hank was talking about. Whirring, clicking. Wait.  _Don’t tell me…_

“Hank, what are you doing?” Connor strained.

“Russian roulette.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	19. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor desperately tries to save Hank.

  
Connor kept Hank talking. He threw on a jacket and began to run. It was a two-mile stretch. He knew the way from putting into Maps so many times on so many lonely nights where he seriously considered going to Hank at two in the morning. He could hear the sound of his own feet hitting the cement, ignoring the bitter chill of Detroit winter. He recalled Hank remarking that he was probably a fast runner. It was actually true. Connor was almost tripping over his own feet.   
  
"Where is Sumo?" Connor asked, trying to distract Hank. Connor turned a corner, though was still about one and a half miles away.   
  
"Urr... I dunno... Lemme look." Hank said. Connor heard a thud and was so relieved he almost stopped moving. Then, he heard a gunshot, and he let out a choked cry as he ran the fastest he had ever, almost tripping several times.   
  
"Hank?!" He managed to get out of him, not stopping. Almost there. He was breathing hard, listening to nothing but the slap of his own footfalls against the cold sidewalk. His chest felt like it was getting tighter and his knees threatened to give out, but he kept running. 1,2, 1,2 1,2. One in front of the other. He was almost there, one more turn-   
  
"The fuckin' gun fired. Scared the shit outta me." Hank grumbled. Connor stopped dead in his tracks for a moment but soon kept running seconds later. "Con?" Hank almost sounded sober. Connor turned, practically wheezing for breath. His throat felt like it was on fire. He ignored someone getting their male looking at him strangely and got to Hank's door. He tried the knob. Locked. No time. He looked to his right and saw a window. He did what any irrational person would do and hurtled himself right through it, wincing but recovering fast. "The fuck?!" Connor could hear Hank, probably from the kitchen. He couldn't even force his legs up anymore.   
  
"Hank..." He choked out, his voice a lot quieter than he wanted it to be.   
  
"What window even..." He heard Hank ask himself. Connor took all the energy and willpower he had left.   
  
"HANK!" He yelled, hearing his own voice echo through the home. He tried to get up, but his knees buckled beneath him and he fell down again.   
  
"Jesus fuck! Connor!" Hank called and hurried over to Connor (to the best of his ability, because he was still intoxicated.) Connor was trying to pry himself up with trembling arms. Hank picked up Connor, not seeming that stable himself.   
  
"You... ran?" Hank asked, looking at the mess of a man in front of him right now. Connor's trembling, quivering body was practically limp in his arms. Hank embraced the weak brunette, who used what little strength he did have to hug Hank back.   
  
"I... yes..." He managed to get out, but most of his voice caught in his throat so he wasn't very loud. Still audible. "Sorry... about... window..." He said through sharp breaths.   
  
"Connor, I don't fuckin' care about the window!" Hank blurted out. Connor buried his face in Hank's shoulder and tried to hold him closer. "You fuckin ran here..." He mumbled, a lot quieter. He still seemed disbelieving. Connor lifted his head.   
  
"I... had to..." He croaked. "I needed to make sure... that you were alive... No matter what..." He finished.   
  
Hank just held him tighter. "Connor..." He said gently.

 

Their embrace lasted for what felt like hours, Connor felt tears prick his eyes as he softly sobbed into Hank’s shoulder. He don't know what he would do without Hank, he really cared about him. It could of been his worst fear, to lose him. Hank, even with his slurred speech and wobbly movements, rubbed comforting circles. Their heads rested on each other's shoulders. Connor’s hands gripped Hank’s upper arms, squeezing them with every harsh breath that could be heard through Connor’s sobs. He tried to apologize but Hank only shushed him, telling him to be quiet as they had this moment. 

 

After a while, Connor lifted his head off Hank’s shoulder, He just then realized how late it was. About 2:43 AM. Connor was unsure of what to do. In Detroit, the cold weather got down to the negatives, and it was about a mile run home. Sure he could do it, but he was freezing, thankfully Hank’s warm embrace made him feel a lot warmer. He shivered and looked up at Hank before speaking.    
  
“I should walk home...it wouldn't be that bad.” Connor didn't want to intrude or force himself into Hank’s home. But he did want to stay and make sure he’d be safe, But it was entirely up to Hank if he were to stay or not.    
  
“You can take the couch if you’d like, I-I know it's fucking freezing out…” Hank’s speech was still a little slurred and stiff, but his tone was considerate and caring. “And I'm not exactly in the best st-state to drive.”   
  
“It.. isn't very comfortable-” Hank continued, “But unless you’d want to be smashed between Sumo and me in my bed…” Hank teased, still in his drunken state. Connor wouldn't of minded being wrapped up in blankets, snuggled between his admired one. With strong arms wrapped around him, and with his head resting on Hank’s chest. It sounded all too good to be true, a dream, but Connor knew better.     
  
“It-it’s fine, Hank,” Connor said, stuttering on his words. The thoughts of being pressed up against Hank, a warm embrace throughout the entire night, made Connor’s head spin.    
  
“I'll get you some pillows, then,” Hank said, wanting to get Connor comfortable for the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i did this to you guys sksdfkj i can barely handle writing angst and slow burn  
> only sof bois from now on. just a _little_ more tension, i swear ;w;


	20. Dogs Break Tension, Aparrently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank is just sitting in bed with the dog at the foot of it, wishing Connor was in bed with him, and by some fucking crazy odds, his wish is granted.

Hank was used to not having warmth next to him in the bed other than his dog, who seemed to notice his loneliness when Mary left and had slept with him since. But he could hardly sleep knowing Connor was that close, not even in his room but still  _ in his fucking house. _ It made Hank, to say the very least, extremely nervous. He had to ignore several thoughts, all stemming from the knowledge that Connor was right there. Hank could just walk out of his room into the living room… He killed the impulse. He was constantly shuffling in his bedsheets, unable to sleep. 

He was trying to move yet again to get comfortable (it’d probably been about a couple of hours since he said goodnight to Connor,) when he heard footsteps against the floor. He shifted quieter before going completely still. He heard a light knock on the door, and his eyes were completely transfixed on it. He could hardly see, obviously, as the house was dark, but he still kept his eyes on the crack in the door. He never closed his door in case Sumo wanted to eat, or do some other dog thing. He saw that someone, most likely Connor, was at the door. He got up, removing the covers from himself and ignoring the small noise of complaint from the dog, who was perfectly comfortable despite Hank’s almost constant shifting. Hank, being as exhausted as he was, hesitantly made his way around his bed to open his door. As he opened it for his friend, the door creaked and revealed an equally as sleepy, and disheveled brunette. It seemed that he had gotten the same amount of sleep Hank did: none. It was 4:36 in the morning, said Hank’s clock.

“Connor, wha…?” Hank trailed off, trying not to eye-fuck Connor.

“Sorry, Hank. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just couldn’t sleep, and-”

“It’s fine, Connor, don’t apologize,” Hank said exasperatedly, rubbing the back of his neck like the awkward son of a bitch he was.

“Uh…” Connor mumbled, looking down at his black socks. Those socks were obviously not Connor’s size. They were far too big, and they almost went up to his knees. It was… cute. Like the rest of Connor.

“And?” Hank asked, waiting for Connor to finish his sentence.

"Hm?” Connor had clearly zoned out, only just now looking back up at Hank.

“You just couldn’t sleep, and…?” Hank pressed on.

“Oh.” Connor squeaked. Hank could hardly notice the slight reddening of Connor’s face in the dim room. “I… I’ve wanted to ask for the past hour- uh…” Connor was obviously blushing, his hands twitching. He probably had to avoid the instinct to cover his red face.

“Spit it out, Con.” Hank insisted, getting exasperated at the fact that Connor was probably getting embarrassed over something stupid.

“Do you mind me coming in and… um… laying down with you?” Connor managed to get out. Hank just stared at him. Uh?

“Are you asking to sleep with me?” Hank asked, raising a brow. Connor made an actual fucking squeaking noise before covering his mouth. Why was this fucker the physical embodiment of the word ‘cute’?! That just… cannot be legal.

“I- um, I just meant…” Connor, evidently, could barely get the words out.

“I’m  _ joking _ , Connor.” Hank rolled his eyes. “Unless you want to.” He teased. Connor shook his head hesitantly. Hank’s mind kept throwing the thought that he considered it at him, and he had to try and keep his mind PG. 

“I know what you mean, Con,” Hank said, reassuringly. “And, yeah it’s alright if you want to. Come on, I’m positive Sumo wouldn’t mind.” Connor’s face lit up hearing the dog’s name. Hank also heard shuffling from the bed, and he assumed that the dog heard his own name as well. Hank awkwardly let Connor in, leaving the door open behind the brunette, just a crack so Sumo could, as stated, leave if he wanted to do so he could do whatever the fuck dogs do in the middle of the night. Hank walked across the carpet, trying not to look at Connor’s legs. The carpet was much, much more interesting than Connor’s beautifully sculpted legs, and his thighs… Fuck, he was looking. He walked around and lay on the left side of the bed, patting the side next to him awkwardly. Connor blushed slightly and got into the bed, not moving closer even though Hank wanted him to. They sat there for what was probably a minute but felt like hours. 

The dog, who must have fucking sensed the tensity, climbed up from his spot at the foot of the bed. He got between the two of them, squeezing through and licking Connor’s face. Connor giggled, and Hank swore that was the most adorable thing. Even though he’d heard it before… God. He was fucking  _ swooning _ over Connor. Hank laughed too because even Connor’s  _ laugh  _ was contagious. Sumo goes to lay down back at the foot of the bed, and Connor was laying down now. Hank felt awkward still half sitting-up, laying down so he didn’t look like an actual moron. Connor was a lot closer now, Hank noticed. He said nothing, though, relishing the closeness of Connor. This was honestly what he had wanted all night, so he definitely was not complaining.

He turned on his side and faced Connor, smiling. Connor was smiling at him too now, his soft smile almost too much for Hank to handle.

“Thanks,” Connor said gently. Very vague of him to say. That could honestly be for a number of things, but Hank took it. He just nodded, a half-assed attempt at a ‘you’re welcome’ because he was getting very tired now that he was finally comfortable. He brushed a hair away from Connor’s eyes and withdrew his hand again, shutting his eyes and falling asleep smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soft. just soft.


	21. Confessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor wakes up next to Hank, they go to Connor's so Connor can actually get winter-appropriate clothes on, and they both say some things that they'd been needing to hear from each other for months.

Connor's eyes fluttered open as he awoke from his unbelievably comfortable night of sleep. It was the best sleep he had in weeks. He noticed the small, cloudy sunlight shining into the dark room. The room was chilly, and his skin was cold, except for around his hips, chest, and his face, and... Connor took in his surroundings, looking up, he saw the brown, cushioned headboard. Then he looked to the side and saw the beige colored walls. He barely recognized where he was until he focused on the soft snoring coming from the man who was holding him. Connor brought his head back to its side-laying position and looked up at the grey-bearded man. Connor soon was woken up completely, snapping awake when he realized that he was being cradled by Hank. He remembered last night and even felt his eyes ache even from all the tears he had shed. Connor's heart raced as if he were doing extreme cardio, but he did his best to calm down. He couldn't believe that Hank had let him sleep with him. He was so kind to him, and he looked so peaceful and content. Hank, with his peaceful snoring and slightly ajar mouth. Connor tried to sit up slowly, not enough to wake up Hank, just to check the time from the alarm clock, over Hank's shoulder. Before realizing it was 8:45 am. Realizing its kind of late, and he knows he should be getting ready for the coffee. It was Christmas day, Connor recalled. He softly shook Hank, leaning over and whispering in the man's ear.

"Hank, it's time to wake up... Come onnn, you big lug," Connor spoke softly, only receiving a soft grumble and Hank turning onto his back. Connor spoke a little louder and put his hand on Hank's chest, tapping him gently. "Hank, wake up, we need to get ready!" Connor said a little louder than before, and Hank stirred.

"Hmm? Ready for what?" Hank grumbled, rubbing his eyes. Connor noticed the slight flush to his cheeks and the widening of his eyes when Hank realized that Connor was in bed with him. Hank seemed to recall everything that happened, his cheeks dusted pink. Connor smiled a bit.

"It's Christmas, Hank." He reminded the man, who was sitting up now, obviously with acquiescence.

"Oh," Was all he got in reply. Connor didn't even notice himself frowning slightly until Hank looked over at him again, his back against the headboard of the bed. "What are you lookin' at me like that for?" He asked with a brow raised. Connor blinked.

"Like what?"

"Like you're upset at me?" Hank ended it like it was a question. Connor shook his head.

"I am not upset at you, Hank," He said because he wasn't. "Although..." He trailed off, tapping his chin with a tiny smile.

"Oh, great," Hank huffed, his arms crossed over his chest. It was obvious that the man was being sarcastic with his reaction.

"I would like you to celebrate Christmas at the cafe. We are having a small celebration there," Connor requested, hoping for Hank to agree to come. He knew that Hank still had trauma from his son's death. "It'll be like when we decorated the cafe. Same people." He finished, looking up at Hank pleadingly.

"Fine, fine..." Hank agreed with obvious hesitance. "Fuckin' puppy eyes..." He grumbled, getting up and stretching. Connor glanced over at him and saw the male's shirt lift up. Hank was chubby, but Connor really liked it. It was frowned upon, for whatever reason, to have extra weight. Connor didn't like that in the world. But he didn't think about it too much, focusing on the good things in life: like Hank's chub. He liked it. And he smiled to himself until he realized Hank's shirt had fallen back down about a minute ago and he was staring at Hank with a stupid smile on his face. "What?" He asked, looking at Connor with a raised eyebrow. Connor felt his cheeks heat up slightly.

"Ah- sorry," Connor said and looked away. He looked down at himself and realized that he was still just wearing shorts, shirt, and hoodie. "Uh, Hank? Do you think you have any clothes that fit me?"

"Clothes that  _fit_ you? Hell no." Hank said with a small laugh.

"Then can we, um- can we stop at my place?" He asked, not really wanting to show up in shorts in the winter. He didn't even know how he ran that far in the freezing cold last night. Hank nodded, to Connor's relief. Connor got up, wishing that he had brought toothpaste. Or anything, really, if he had known he was going to have a damn sleepover at Hank's house. His morning breath wasn't too bad, so he figured he could wait until he got to his place to quickly brush his teeth. And he did, waiting for Hank to get dressed (looking away, although he didn't want to) and then they both set out for his place, then the cafe. Hank didn't even have to put it in the GPS, which Connor found strange. He didn't say anything, though, and got out of the car. "You can come with, Hank," He said when Hank was obviously hesitant to even leave his car. He did when Connor said this, though, looking a bit more at ease when he walked out of the car. Connor gave him a small smile. They walked in together. It wasn't much, his apartment, but it was home. Hank, for whatever reason, smiled at his apartment. Connor got the fish food and fed his fish, Dewey.

"A fish, huh?" Hank remarked, behind Connor still wearing a smile. Connor chuckled a bit.

"Yes. I like fish, too." Connor informed with a matter-of-fact tone. Hank just nodded. "Can you wait out here for me to get dressed?" Connor asked, not expecting Hank to say 'no.' As he thought, Hank just nodded and sat on his couch. Connor remembered how many sleepless nights he'd spend on that couch thinking about Hank. And now Hank was sitting on that couch. Hm. He walked into his bedroom, not bothering to lock the door, cause he didn't take Hank for a creep. He didn't do too much, pulling out an old graphic t-shirt and tucking it into black leggings. He walked out of his bedroom after brushing his teeth, grateful for the minty taste and not the taste of morning breath. He had jackets he could wear, but... "Hank?"

"Yeah, Con?"

"Can I wear your hoodie?" He asked, knowing that the hoodie he wanted to wear was sitting in the back seat on top of... something. Connor didn't know what, it was something that Hank hid when he took it out of the house. Connor didn't want to question it, as it was probably some sort of surprise present. The idea that Hank got him a Christmas gift made a surge of warmth spread throughout his chest.

"Can you- Uh, I guess, hold on-" Hank's face had reddened slightly, not for the first time that day. Connor smiled at that and held on, sitting on the couch after Hank had left the apartment, presumably to get the hoodie. He felt that today was going to be a very good day. Was today a good day to confess to Hank? He kind of wanted to. He kept it in mind and gave Hank a small wave when he walked in. The smile had taken itself off of his face now, but it quickly made its way back to his features when Hank walked in holding the hoodie, and something else behind his back. "Alright, uh..." Hank was clearly embarrassed. What's embarrassing about a hoodie? Was it what was behind the older male's back that was embarrassing him? Connor raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, Hank," Connor said, taking the hoodie from him and watching the man's instinctive reaction to hold what he had hidden behind his back further away from Connor, moving it to the right. When Hank did that, though, Connor got a glimpse of something blue. He smiled. He liked blue. "What is that, Hank?" He asked, pointing to the both of Hank's arms behind his back holding something.

"It's, uh- Shit," Hank said. Well, that wasn't helpful at all.

"It's shit?" Connor inquired, though he was smirking. Hank rolled his eyes.

"No, Connor, stop being a smartass," He huffed. Connor waited for him to elaborate, but he never did, so Connor did a puppy-like head tilt. Mainly because he knew of the effect it had on Hank.

"So what is it, then,  _Lieutenant~_?" Connor knew by Hank's reaction that, despite what he had said months ago when they had just met, Hank really liked the way he said 'lieutenant.' He was very observant, after all, and noticed the dilation of the man's pupils every time.

"Fuck you," Hank muttered, although it was barely audible.  _Please do,_ said a perverted voice in Connor's head. Was he always like this? No way. He never cared about anything romantic, let alone sexual. He hadn't even had his first kiss yet. He gave his full attention to Hank when the man opened his mouth to speak. "I, uh, got you something. For Christmas." Connor waited, but Hank didn't say anything else. This was beginning to get frustrating. Both of them seemed frustrated though, and at the same time, they said:

"I have something to say to you, Hank!" "I need to tell you something, Connor,"

They looked at each other and Hank laughed. "You say it," He offered, probably not wanting to say whatever it was he had to tell Connor.

"No, Hank. I want you to say it," Connor insisted, giving Hank the sweetest puppy dog look he could pull off. Hank groaned.

"At the same time," He tried to compromise. Connor nodded slowly, his cheeks slowly heating up. "1...2...3!" And at the same time, both of them said basically the same thing:

Connor said, "I'm in love with you, Hank!" and Hank, equally loud, said, "I love you, Connor!" Both of them looked at each other, their expressions unbelievably similar. They seemingly both wore disbelieving and shocked expressions. Then Hank began laughing, and Connor laughed too. Hank, still laughing, took whatever was behind his back and held it out. Connor gave a small gasp. It was a bouquet of beautiful blue flowers. He looked up at Hank with a dopey smile and took the flowers. 

"Thank you, Hank!" He chirped, looking from the beautiful flowers to Hank. "Need to put these in a vase..." He murmured as he quickly shuffled away to put the flowers in a vase, as he said he would. He carefully placed them in the vase he had filled with water and put them on his coffee table. He smiled down at them and turned to Hank. "Should we go, then?" He asked, and Hank nodded. Connor was so unbelievably happy. He didn't care that Hank was slightly stupid (I mean, come on, he gave so many hints!), he now knew that his feelings were requited. And that... That was an amazing feeling. He walked over to Hank and held the man's hand, looking up at him fondly. Hank blushed, but returned Connor's gaze with a smile. Connor leaned over, not letting go of Hank's hand, and grabbed a scarf with his other hand. He put it around Hank's neck with a moronic grin.

"Yeah. Let's go." Hank said, and the two walked out hand-in-hand with stupid smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heehee


End file.
